


i'll give you shelter from the storm

by cpt_winniethepooh



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Angel Wings, Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Female Crowley (Good Omens), Gender Identity, Hurt Crowley, Hurt/Comfort, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), M/M, Missing Scene, Noah's Ark, Self-Denial, Softie Crowley (Good Omens), Wings, there should be a tag for angel using his wings to shield his love from the rain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-28
Updated: 2019-07-28
Packaged: 2020-07-23 23:24:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20016499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cpt_winniethepooh/pseuds/cpt_winniethepooh
Summary: Crowley is disappointed and heartbroken during the flood. Aziraphale tries to comfort him (only because he's an angel, and he has angelic duties, there's nothing else to it. Nothing.)





	i'll give you shelter from the storm

**Author's Note:**

> I saw [this wonderful art](https://aiwa-sensei.tumblr.com/post/185723764365/stupid-ineffable-plan-patreon-instagram) yesterday by aiwa-sensei and it touched something in me so much I had to write an accompanying scene. Go and reblog it!
> 
> But I neglected to rewatch the show before starting this ficlet so I kinda mixed up the Noah-scene with the Jesus-scene, and Crowley is wearing feminine clothing now. And there may be some line that have already been explained in the actual scene, but just... roll with it. 
> 
> Title is from Bob Dylan's Shelter from the Storm, which is very cliché, but also very fitting for this fic I think.

Aziraphale found Crowley on top of a very high mountain; one of the very few places on what will later be called the Middle-East that was still above water. But the water level was rising swiftly, and Aziraphale's clothes were uncomfortably dripping with water as he trekked upwards.

There were no life forms around them as far as the eye could see, only the blue waves reflecting the grey sky, broken up by the steady flow of raindrops. It had been raining for days, and it was going to be raining until all but one boat was fully immerged.

Aziraphale knew the plan. That wasn't to say that he was _happy_ about it, but it wasn't his job to be happy about it. His job was to do as told, which he did. Even if it meant...

Well.

God knew best. Aziraphale wasn't going to question that.

Crowley's fists were balled up, Aziraphale noticed first. He was soaked from the rain in which he had been standing for a while, now, staring at the distance where the boat carrying the last life forms of the Middle-East had vanished some hours ago.

He was wearing the same clothes he had been when Aziraphale told him about the Plan, except now of course they were wet. And Aziraphale realized that they were _feminine_ clothes.

Well, angels and demons were sexless, after all, and their gender went only as far as society's norms did, so. There was nothing inherently evil with that, really. Their bodies were there to serve a purpose, and if Crowley thought that presenting as a female human would get him... _her_ further, that just proved how cunning he was.

"So she's really doing it?" she muttered angrily, not minding the wet braid of hair falling into her face. "Wiping it all out, starting over?"

"That's what I've been told," Aziraphale answered, suddenly self-conscious – maybe he shouldn't have told Crowley, but it wasn't as if the demon could do anything to stop the flood. "But it's not the whole planet, you know."

"It's still cruel!" Crowley burst out. "It... you can't just kill half of the species just because they act how _you designed them_!"

"Yes, you can," Aziraphale countered. He and Crowley could be... non-hostile toward each other, out of necessity, but he won't be standing for this sort of language. "Well, not we, but _She_ can. And she does."

"But _why_!" Crowley exclaimed, but she wasn't looking at Aziraphale. She turned her face up, to the sky, and the rain fell directly onto her face.

"God works in myster–"

"Stop," Crowley rounded on him now. "Stop with that bullshit, angel."

Aziraphale shut his mouth but sent a nasty look towards her. She had never been so... so...

"I haven't even seen such cruelty from my side," she sighed, barely audible over the rainfall, her mood changing again quickly. "Makes me rather happy I fell, actually. At least I can do everything to spite her now."

Normally, Aziraphale would gawk at such blasphemy.

He didn't, now.

He had seen her emotional before, yes, but never so outraged. And then he noticed that she was, in fact, shivering.

"I don't know why she does it either," Aziraphale admitted, very quietly.

The flight left Crowley at once; she sunk down on herself, shoulders hunched. She tried to shake a wet braid of her out of her face, but couldn't, so with a deep resentment, she materialized her wings.

There was nobody around to see it, anyway.

She tried to cocoon herself ineffectively: angelic and demonic wings weren't water-resistant, unlike ducks.

Aziraphale hoped that Noah managed to catch two ducks, but either way, ducks could swim.

And ducks probably wouldn’t be so cold here, anyway.

Crowley was still shivering, her thin black feathers doing little to keep her warm. All she managed to do was to get her wings dripping, and she seemingly gave up and plopped down to a rock and hugged herself.

Aziraphale wanted to ask why she was even still here, why she hadn't fled to the Chinese or to Australia – no. He wanted to know, but he was too afraid to ask.

Maybe the answer would be why he himself had stayed, and Aziraphale did not want to think about that.

But he was an angel, and angels were notoriously helpful. They can't just... not help, if it's not against direct orders. And his standing orders were to cross all evil, which Crowley hadn't been doing now. There was no need to cross him, so he could fall back on his angelic nature without repercussions, really, he wasn't violating any rules.

It was purely out of pity that he materialized his own wings and held one above Crowley. He was just an angel, acting how angels were expected to act.

They had never touched before.

Well. They had, but in that meaningless, accidental way – fingers brushing, shoulders nudging, nothing important. Yet now Aziraphale found something calling out in him to sit down next to her, and after a few moments of consideration, he did.

Crowley didn't acknowledge him, but her hands were pale and bone-y.

It was his angelic nature, nothing else, just the need to comfort even the unforgivable, that compelled Aziraphale to reach out and take her hand. Just to warm it with his own, nothing more, because angels and demons didn't share solidarity.

Whatever Crowley was feeling, Aziraphale did not feel it too.

His left wing was still over Crowley, trying to redirect the rain away from her. Unlike in Eden, where Crowley came closer shyly, but eagerly, she now gave no sign that she noticed Aziraphale. But after a few moments, she slightly, very slightly angled herself closer and pressed her wing to Aziraphale's side, letting him protect her back and shield her from the rain.

Her eyes were still on the ground in front of her but he felt her fingers twitch in his hand, just once.

It had been raining for days, and it will keep raining for more.

**Author's Note:**

> I have a [tumblr](https://cpt-winniethepooh.tumblr.com/), if you want to scream about Good Omens somewhere! 
> 
> ~~(also please live comments, I live for validation)~~


End file.
